A Transition
by pensonpaper
Summary: Matthew had known that he was going to become the Earl of Grantham. But it had always been an abstract idea, something that would happen in the far off future. Life disagreed. (A season 3 Christmas special AU).
1. Chapter 1

**AN:** So basically I've had this rattling around my brain for awhile and decided to write it down. This first chapter might seem a little disorganized but it'll get better. I hope.

Also, this may or may not be my first story. So let's just see what happens, shall we?

* * *

Matthew gazed at his son adoringly. _He had done it. No, they had done it. They had managed to create this perfect, tiny person. _He had imagined their child many times in the past eight months, but this topped all of his imaginings.

"I suppose I should go and collect the others now, shouldn't I? Robert must be straining at the bits to see his grandson," he murmured, reluctant to break the spell that was cast over them.

"Must you?" Mary replied. She too was enthralled by her son. _Their_ son. "Couldn't you just telephone? I don't think Baby is quite ready to let you go yet or me as a matter of fact."

"Well, I suppose if you insist…" Matthew teased while simultaneously shifting himself onto the bed. He certainly needed no convincing. He was simply so content right now, in this pristine room, half-on the hospital bed trying to get as close as possible to Mary and their son.

* * *

Robert Crawley was usually a very patient man. However, when his eldest daughter and the man he had come to see as a son had done the one thing he had always dreamed of doing, when they finally, finally kept the line of Downton safe (and given him another grandchild to boot!), his patience wore a little thin.

"Robert, come and sit down. Pacing around isn't going to make Matthew come any faster," Cora admonished, albeit half-heartedly. She was so very proud of Mary and Matthew too, as much as Robert really. But that didn't mean she had the urge to wear a hole in the carpet!

Robert was definitely getting a little impatient to see his first grandson now. Where was Matthew?

"He's probably too caught up with Mary and the baby," He remarked. His continuous pacing stopped as he announced, "Actually, I think I might as well just go to them myself."

"Oh Robert, are you sure you don't want to give them a little more time to themselves? They have just had a baby," Cora said.

"Oh, but they'll have the rest of their lives to be alone with the baby. I'm sure they won't mind indulging a very happy old man." And without another word, Robert practically skipped out of the room.

* * *

It was so very hard to break the comfortable silence that had blanketed the room, but Mary knew they couldn't stay like this forever. Besides, there was one thing which really had to be addressed.

"Matthew, I believe our child needs a name."

"You mean something other than our prince, the great heir to Downton?"

"Hush, you know what I mean," Mary's eyes twinkled at his gentle teasing. The shifting of the baby clamored her attention and she brought her gaze down to him. Without glancing up she murmured, "William."

Matthew strained to hear her. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"William Crawley. That's his name. If you agree, of course."

"My darling, it's perfect. Our little William."

Mary suddenly looked up at Matthew, as if just remembering something. "You don't think Mama will be too terribly put out that we're not naming him Robert? She was so fond of the idea."

Matthew recalled the many debates that occurred over dinner between his mother, Cora, and the Dowager. It was partially why he and Mary did not choose a name ahead of time. (It had nothing to do with the fact that Mary's ideas for names varied greatly during her pregnancy, and ranged from Perseus to Matthew Reginald Robert Crawley. Not at all.) In any case, he had no desire to jump back into that discussion, much as he doubted anyone would care right now.

"No. She'll be fine. Besides, we wouldn't want him to grow up under the shadow of his great Grandpapa," he replied with a slight grin.

The newly-named William Robert Crawley stared up at his parents. He had the deep chestnut hair of his mother and the piercing blue eyes of his father. His parents, in turn, stared back at him and wondered if things could possibly be any more perfect.

* * *

_ Matthew might be influencing me more than I realize_, Robert thought as he drove down the tree lined road. He had convinced Pratt that he didn't need to drive him to the hospital. It was only a short way, and he could manage it himself. _But how I am so ever grateful for Matthew and all he has done._

He was so happily distracted by his thoughts that Robert did not even notice the large truck driving his way.

* * *

Back in the hospital room, unbeknownst to him or anyone, Matthew Crawley had just become the 6th Earl of Grantham.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:** You have no idea how happy I was that people managed to understand what I was writing, let alone enjoy it!

I'm still not quite sure how I want to take this, but I do have some ideas. Basically, I wanted to rewrite the ending of the CS, because I always felt that one of the major arcs of Downton Abbey was seeing Matthew and Mary grow into the roles of Earl and Countess. And I had been pretty convinced before watching the episode that Robert was going to die. So I basically smashed the two together and this fanfic was born.

Anyway, enough rambling. Onto the story!

* * *

One would think that after being a doctor for many years Doctor Clarkson would be used to giving bad news. But as he stopped outside the door containing Mr. and Lady Crawley he never had felt more uncomfortable. He could practically feel the joy radiating from the room, and he sensed that as soon as he opened the door that energy would rupture.

Of course the second that he saw Lord Grantham being carried in by a particularly stricken young man he knew he was dead. Even if the expression of death on his face hadn't told him that, a quick check of his pulse confirmed it. The young man's entire body seemed to shake as he explained that His Lordship had swerved to avoid hitting his truck, that he hardly knew what happened until he realized that the car was now on top of the Earl of Grantham…Clarkson told a nurse to fetch a cup of tea for him.

And it was the sudden squeal from another room that reminded Clarkson of the current state of affairs. He dreaded telling the happy couple. Nevertheless, he pushed the door open.

The new family was laying there, the picture of utter contentment. He awkwardly cleared his throat.

"Doctor Clarkson! Has Papa shown up yet? Mama had mentioned that he was coming in advance over the telephone," Mary said.

"Well, actually I have some news-er, concerning Lord Grantham," Clarkson stuttered.

"What is it? We had been expecting him to be at the hospital by now," Matthew prompted, concerned by the look on the Doctor's face.

Clarkson took a deep breath, preparing himself to say his next words. He was interrupted from doing this, though, by the nurse striding into the room.

"I've told the young man to lie down for a bit, before he set off again. Poor chap, he was so distressed," she relayed to him, before noticing the rest of the occupants of the room. Seeing Mr. Crawley, she started. He must be the new-

She quickly muttered, "M'lord," bobbed her head, and abandoned the room.

Matthew was very confused by this.

"Is she new here, Doctor?"

Clarkson, if anything, looked even more uncomfortable. "No, she's not new."

"Oh, well then she must have mistaken me for someone else, why else would she call me…"

Oh. No. No. That couldn't be right. There must have been some sort of mistake. Surely, he wasn't… Matthew looked up at Doctor Clarkson, hoping to see anything but the sad look of understanding on his face.

"Doctor Clarkson? What is the meaning of this?" Mary too, had noticed the nurse's words.

"It was an automobile accident. I'm so terribly sorry."

* * *

Mary waited for Clarkson to leave the room before she allowed the tears to fall down her face. Matthew himself could do no more than clutch her and William tightly, wondering how everything could change so instantaneously.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: **Hey guys! Thanks again for all of the lovely reviews. Sorry it took me so long to get this up, I'm pretty busy. Regular updates are not very likely I'm afraid. But there's a new chapter today, so onto the story!

* * *

The next week seemed to pass by in a haze. There was a funeral of course, attended by many, but Matthew was unable to do more than look on as a desolate Cora wept by the grave. Mary stood beside him, trying to keep her emotions in check. He admired her desire to be a rock for the family, but the way she was blinking furiously told him that it was very challenging for her. It was hard for all of them, really. Despite any disagreements they ever had, Robert had grown to be a father figure for Matthew. He had depended on him so much during those first few years at Downton, when he was still the young, middle class solicitor determined to not be changed by the aristocracy. He still kept finding himself under the impression that any second now Robert would come striding in and give him some well-meaning advice.

Advice he would sorely need now that he was the Earl. Ever since that day in 1912, Matthew was aware of the fact that he would become the Earl of Grantham but he never truly realized that it would happen, until suddenly well-wishers at the funeral were addressing him as Lord Grantham. Matthew certainly did not feel like an Earl. To be honest, he found it hard to feel anything right then.

But then there was a shriek of a baby. He looked at Mary, who was gently rocking baby William to and fro, trying to calm him.

"I'll be right back," she whispered to him. Before he could protest she had disappeared among the crowd.

It seemed nowadays that the only thing keeping everyone from falling into the black pit of grief was the baby. William kept Matthew and Mary occupied so much that it sometimes distracted them from the shadow surrounding them. But even that was only ever for a short while.

Matthew was disrupted from his thoughts by the presence of his mother.

"You look too pensive for anyone's good," Isobel remarked gently, "How is Mary holding up?"

"As well as anyone who loses her father can be."

The crowd was beginning to thin out. The two of them stood beside the grave, which now bore the name 'Robert Crawley' on it.

Isobel asked quietly, "And you?"

"Pardon?"

Isobel faced her son. "How are you?"

Matthew hesitated. Keeping his eyes trained on the gravestone he muttered, "It's hard to realize that this is actually happening. It's hard to believe that this is all real and not some horrible dream I'll wake up from in the morning. Please tell me I'm dreaming Mother." The pain in Matthew's eyes was evident as tears leaked out of them, and pleaded Isobel to say yes.

Isobel wished dearly that she could simply wipe away his pain like when he was a little child, but this was greater than scraped knees from his bicycle. There was no magic cure for this pain. All she could do was mention, "Things will get better in time."

Matthew had a very hard time believing that too.

* * *

Yeah, sorry for the all the angst. It's kinda necessary. But never fear, there will be fluff-eventually.

Also Mary will be in this story more than she has been in the past couple of chapters. This story is going to be a bit of a Matthew-centric one though, just because that's how it comes out of my head. But never fear, there will be plenty of Mary, and plenty of M/M. Thanks for reading!


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